


an end through ice would most suffice

by feistymuffin



Series: Contiguity [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistymuffin/pseuds/feistymuffin
Summary: Gavin and RK have to get creative when they're stranded overnight during a winter storm.





	an end through ice would most suffice

**Author's Note:**

> _Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to say that, for destruction, ice is also great and would suffice._
> 
> \- Robert Frost
> 
> the first of six parts, based on a 5 + 1 theme for "proximity" 
> 
> enjoy! :>

The crunch of snow underfoot is harsh against the dusky, rural quiet around them, Gavin’s quick stride and RK’s even gait at rhythmic odds as they approach the front door from the secluded warmth of his car. Fat little flakes of ice are pelting them in a diagonal slant from the gloomily darkened sky, and Gavin tugs his jacket more tightly around his chest to block out the cold.

 _Kevin Ryder,_ he repeats in his head, mostly for something to fill it so he doesn’t think about the god-awful drive to the remote one-storey house through the worsening weather, over thirty minutes outside of the city. _Wanted for questioning on the disappearances of Susie and Ethan Beckett, Kevin’s sister and brother-in-law. Ryder has a valid license to carry a concealed weapon as well as a handgun registered under his name. Possibly armed, possibly dangerous._

“Who the fuck wants to live out here, anyway?” he mutters to no one in particular, and knocks on the front door as soon as he’s mounted the porch steps. “Detroit PD! Open up!” He waits for a beat and then, when there’s no response, he tries again with another, louder knock, “Detroit Police!”

There’s no reply from anyone inside, and as RK joins him at the door the android observes, “The lights are out, and I can detect no movement inside.”

“So he’s not home or he’s dodging the cops because we know he lied to us,” Gavin surmises irritably, breathing onto his chilled fingers and hunching his shoulders to his ears. He lifts his gaze to the dim exterior of the small house, keenly peeled for the motion of curtains or a shadow in a window, but he sees nothing.

He tries the doorknob, which is locked, then turns back to RK and nods toward the house. “Figure we ought to put that warrant to good use?”

RK’s lips quirk just slightly and he steps back to give Gavin ample room. “After you, Detective.”

Gavin grins and repositions himself in front of the door, taking a quick step forward and bringing his foot up with brutal force to slam the sole of his boot against the wood. The door gives way easily, its frame splintering from the abuse, and swings hard to come to a stop at the interior wall. Both of them pause to listen in the aftermath of the commotion and when there’s still nothing from inside the house they file in through the doorway.

As they step over the threshold, footsteps light and measured, it takes Gavin a moment to realize that the house is scarcely warmer than outside. The briskness of outside still nips at his skin, and despite wanting to stuff his hands into his pockets in the clinging, damp cold he doesn’t, reaching up to flick the light switch on and making a rough noise when nothing happens.

“Power’s out, heat’s off, nobody’s home,” Gavin mutters, watching through the murk as RK’s glowing LED heads into the small kitchen. Louder he says, “Nobody’s been here for days.”

“I agree, Detective,” RK says. “Thermal scans show no heat signatures in the immediate area and there is no evidence of recent domestic activity.”

“Can you spot anything out of place?” He casts his eyes around in the dark, fumbling in his pocket for the small flashlight he always carries, and switches it on. A small beam of light illuminates a portion of the space, showing a mediocre-sized and basically furniture-less living room that leads further on into the kitchen where RK is. Off to the other side of the front door there’s a short hallway, and Gavin heads down it with his flashlight trained ahead of him, searching for anything incriminating or helpful to the case. He pokes his head into the first room to find a bedroom empty but for a twin bed frame, and the second, final door is just a bathroom lacking any personal touches or bathing accoutrements. The bathtub/shower doesn’t even have a curtain. He’s thorough, checking the wall cupboard over the toilet and the closet in the bedroom, but both are completely void of any and all items.

“There appears to be nothing noteworthy in the living room or kitchen.” RK’s reply comes from behind him, and although his sudden presence doesn’t spook Gavin like it used to when RK would sneak up on him, it stills sends his heart rate into a rabbitty tango when he feels the android come up to his side. Their arms are almost brushing, and he can feel his subtle, artificial body heat through the cool air.

“What about in here, or the bedroom?”

RK looks past Gavin into the bathroom, LED whorling yellow, and then moves back down the dim hall to the open bedroom. “No, Detective, there’s nothing.”

“Damn.” It’s a true dead end as dead ends go, and it was their witnesses’ only listed address so they have nowhere to go to continue the lead without more evidence. “Let’s call it in and get back to the station. I’m fuckin’ freezing.”

With a small nod RK leads the way outside and back to his Mustang, where the android slips behind the wheel without asking. Gavin doesn’t comment as he gets into the passenger seat, only hands over the keys and huddles inside his jacket to keep warm. He doesn’t usually relinquish his car to let others drive it but Gavin was more than a little white-knuckled on the snow-covered, blustery highway to get here, and he knows RK’s perceptions are better than his own.

Without consciously meaning to, he thinks back to the beginning days of their partnership, when he was downright vitriolic toward the android and would’ve died before letting RK drive his precious car. Almost ten months ago they became partners, and since then it’s been an uphill climb to make their partnership work. Gavin knows it’s been mostly him that’s been the problem, that it’s more about his world views adjusting to something realistic rather than caustic. RK hasn’t taken anything personally, though, even when he really should’ve, even when that’s exactly how Gavin had meant whatever scathing comment he’d unleashed, and he’s been ever-present in Gavin’s life despite the first couple of months when Gavin did his best to make the android leave.

Since those rocky weeks of getting used to having a partner—getting used to having an android around, period—Gavin likes to think he’s evolved as a person. He’s still the sarcastic asshole he’s always been, as Chen is frequent to remind him, but even Anderson and his plastic sidekick have become easier to get along with, all because of RK’s position and influence toward him. Gavin remembers with vivid clarity how cruel he’d been, how much he’d blamed the things that (he thought) would replace humans as a whole. The revolution opened his eyes to some degree, but it wasn’t until RK really started to enlighten him with facts, demonstrated and explained, that he began to get the picture of how much of an idiot he was being. Through it all, RK had patience and expertise to spare when it came to handling Gavin and his outbursts, nine times out of ten refusing to rise to Gavin’s bait, and that rare tenth time putting Gavin in his place with precisely worded comebacks when things went too far.

It’s been more than Gavin deserved, considering how things began, and it wasn’t like he got off scot-free. Fowler wrote him up with three separate disciplinaries for his behaviour before things started to ease off, right around the time he started calling RK900 “RK” and referring to him as “he” rather than “it”. He knows that RK has another, friendlier nickname with Connor and Hank, and even with Chen and Miller, but he’s never used it. It’s a hurdle he’s never breached, that extra level of friendliness, but that has less to do with his old resistance toward androids and more with… something else.

He’s broken out of his reverie when RK turns to him across the centre console, his usually near-stoic face wearing a perturbed expression. Gavin frowns, belatedly noticing that RK hasn’t started the car despite the keys being in the ignition. “Detective, we have a problem.”

“What?” Gavin says, snappy and irritable as he shivers slightly. “C’mon, get the fuckin’ lead out. We need to head back.”

“I can’t,” RK replies simply, and in emphasis he turns the key to show Gavin their new issue. The dashboard lights and icons flicker as the car turns over staggeringly, trying to gain traction and start the engine, but it chugs and chugs for long, uninterrupted seconds before RK lets up and the noise stops. “It seems that your car refuses to start.”

“Shit. _Shit._ ” He doesn’t bother asking if RK can fix it, because if that was the case then he’d already be doing it. Gavin rubs his hands together and then tucks them under his arms inside his jacket for a blessed moment before fumbling for his phone, speed dialing number four, and thankfully the recipient is quick to answer.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” Hank’s gruff voice hums in his ear.

“Anderson, it’s Reed. How fast could you send a squad car out to our location?”

“A squad car? What the hell for?”

Gavin sighs with frustration. “My car won’t start and we’re stuck out in the fuckin’ boonies with an empty house and no witness for the Beckett case. We just went to leave and the goddamn thing is dead.”

“No shit? Alright, hold on.” Then, quieter, “Con, get ahold of Fowler. Reed and Nines are stranded up north near Almont.” There’s a short pause, more muffled talking that Gavin can’t make out, and then Hank is back with a weary, “Sorry, Reed. Every cop in the city is stuck with the weather this bad. We can’t get anyone out to you.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Gavin snaps, jaw clenched from temper and cold alike.

“Find somewhere to hole up until the weather clears and we’ll send a tow out to you. Until then, I don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

“Outstanding. You’ve been a big fuckin’ help.” He sighs roughly, looking over at RK who has a curious, pensive look to him, and mutters into his phone, “We’ll figure it out. Call me when you can get that tow.” He hangs up on Hank’s assenting grunt, eyeing RK in the driver’s seat as the android looks back. “What is it?”

“Two months ago I took the liberty of administering your vehicle with the necessary survival supplies for a situation such as this,” RK replies, “after participating in the workshop for environmental preparedness during the summer.”

Gavin’s eyebrows spike up to his hairline and his hands, having started to rub together to heat up, halt again. “You... broke into my fuckin’ car to give me _survival supplies_?”

“Yes,” the android says, sounding amused. “They’re in the trunk.”

Against his will Gavin’s body wracks with a hard shiver and he shoves down the urge to get angry at the intrusion. It would do no good, and RK’s forethought has saved the day in this particular circumstance. “Fine,” he grumbles, and jerkily exits the car into the raging storm outside. It’s dark as hell now that the sun has completely set, and despite his good boots his feet still slip on the icy driveway.  

Burying his hands under his arms again, he watches impatiently as RK pops the trunk and his jaw gapes at the plethora of equipment inside. “Jesus, did you raid Cabela’s or something? The fuck is all this crap?” Gavin reaches in and takes hold of a compacted tent kit for two people, setting it down again almost immediately when the cold packaging robs his fingers of their warmth.

“Survival gear, mostly, and whatever else was already in the trunk.”

Which means he didn’t take pity on Gavin and clean out his car while he was kind and astute enough to give him all this stuff. A harsh gust, littered with stinging snowflakes, rips through whatever heat remains underneath Gavin’s jacket, and he blurts quickly, “Okay, sure, whatever. Let’s grab some shit and get out of this wind already.”

“I would suggest we take shelter in the house,” RK says over the howling gale, “since the backseat won’t be spacious enough to be comfortable. We may also have the hopes of finding a way to stay warm inside.”

“Alright.” Since he himself is close to becoming a popsicle, Gavin lets RK grab whatever equipment he thinks they’ll need, which apparently consists of an inflatable mattress, a trauma kit, some blankets and what appears to be a box of power supplies, a cooktop and a lantern. The android carries his burdens easily despite it all looking cumbersome to hold, and when he makes for the house Gavin hastily shuts the trunk again and follows.

Inside the small house, with the front door now broken and the heat off, it’s as cold as outside. Gavin does his best to shut the door after them, using the deadbolt and the chain lock to keep it closed as much as possible. It’ll do, but it still lets in a draft that’s going to be hard to ignore if they can’t get some heat going in this place.

He joins RK in the kitchen, the farthest spot from the front door’s whistling gap, and kneels to start unpacking the box of batteries and useful electronics while RK unboxes and unfolds the mattress. He turns on one of the lanterns in the box, spilling a soft yellow light into the room, and then he’s abruptly caught by the sight of RK’s hands deftly plugging the air pump to a battery. Long, nimble fingers attach the air pump nozzle to the mattress’ air intake, and Gavin quickly averts his eyes as RK looks up, feeling his neck and cheeks grow warm and hoping like hell that RK didn’t notice. By the curious, strange look on his face Gavin knows he did, but neither of them comments on his embarrassment and they wordlessly continue to set up.

With the mattress inflated and the blankets unfolded and laid out on top of it, the list of jobs has run thin and Gavin is losing excuses to not look at RK. He’s fiddling aimlessly with the box’s remainder items—a second lantern, some cans of nonperishable food and the cooktop as well as a cast iron sauce pan—when RK gets to his feet and says with a broad look toward the south side of the house, LED spinning thoughtfully, “This property appears to run on off-grid generators. I’ll go see if I can find them and get them operational. I suggest you try and get warm, Detective.”

Before Gavin’s even finished nodding the android is hastening out the front door again, leaving him alone in the quiet house. The storm beats against the outer walls, wind screaming in through the open door and making Gavin’s teeth chatter obnoxiously, so he hastily unties his boots to toe them off before he crawls under the mountain of thick blankets on the mattress. It’s not as plush as his bed at home, but it’s a hell of a lot better than laying on the goddamn floor.

He strains his ears to hear anything past the sound of the blizzard but he can’t pick up anything over its calamity, and he spends fruitless minutes trying to imagine himself warm and toasty at home, curled up beside his cat watching old silver screen classics with an excessively large bowl of double buttered popcorn. It’s comforting, if impossible, in the miserable cold of the little house, but when it’s been over five minutes according to his watch and RK still hasn’t returned, his worry starts to chill him even further.

Just when he’s unraveling himself from the pile of blankets to go check outside he hears the telltale crunch of footsteps on fresh, wet powder and then RK comes in through the door, covered in snow from the soles of his shoes to at least mid-thigh and his dark hair and shoulders liberally dusted with flakes. He shuts and locks the door, then moves away down the hall and comes back with the small bed frame in his arms, which he props up against the door on its side to hold it shut. It works remarkably better than just locking the door, the small gap almost completely shut, and then he joins Gavin where he sits, half-covered by the blankets.

“I wasn’t able to get the generators working,” RK tells him, sounding a little frustrated, but he gives Gavin a tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “With our current precautions, though, there’s a very low likelihood of you contracting frostbite.”

“Stellar,” Gavin grits out, teeth chattering, and immediately snuggles back under the blankets. Once somewhat comfortable he sighs a little, hands firmly clutching the blankets to his body, but the bottom of his stomach drops stonily to his heels when RK’s hands go to the fastenings of his pristine black and white jacket. “Wh—What the fuck are you doing?”

“My clothing is saturated with water,” RK informs him matter-of-factly. “It will dry faster if I’m not wearing it.” With that he shucks off his jacket, leaving him in his black turtleneck sweater, and drapes it over the bed frame holding the door shut before moving on to his shoes.

“Oh my god,” Gavin mutters, helpless to stop the flush that swarms over his face even as he shivers, and pointedly turns his back on the display of RK undressing himself. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this is what I have to put up with while I’m goddamn freezing to death.”

RK is silent for a moment, and then the android offers an amused, “Your core temperature is still above ninety-seven degrees, Detective.” Gavin thinks he’s finished but then he adds pensively, “Although I think it would be beneficial if I continued to embarrass you to cause further temperature spikes.”

Right on cue Gavin’s cheeks heat, warmth diffusing along his neck at the teasing tone in his voice, and he doesn’t deign that comment with a reply beyond a huffy grunt.

He doesn’t need to, though, because RK continues amusedly, “My point exactly, Detective.”

“Can it, you prick,” Gavin grumbles, inevitably tensing as he hears RK’s belt clink—probably taking off his slacks. The knowledge does unpermitted things to Gavin’s gut, setting loose an entomologist's lab in his stomach and spreading a bloom of heat down his chest. “I’m armed, and I will not hesitate to fuckin’ shoot you.”

“I might have believed that seven months ago,” RK says, “but now? Hardly.”

“Just what the fuck are you playing at?” Gavin growls, clutching the blankets tightly around himself. “Don’t answer that, because I don’t care. Just leave me alone to freeze in peace.”

“As your partner, I feel obligated to remind you that I have no intention of leaving you alone,” the android responds simply. The padding of bare feet across hardwood precedes the approach of RK’s voice, and Gavin tenses again when he says, much closer than before, “I’m also obligated to ensure your survival in every situation possible, so I won’t be allowing you to freeze, either. My condolences to your pride, Detective.”

“My pride? Wh—” Gavin starts, but then a firm hand is unbundling him from his blanket cocoon and everything becomes very obvious all at once. He instinctively clings hard to the edges of the blankets but, quite easily, RK rends it from his grip. “Jesus fucking Christ, RK, do _not_ —”  

The weight of a knee pressing onto the side of the air mattress interrupts him, dipping it heavily in RK’s direction and making Gavin roll toward him. It’s a movement that he fully fights as he tries to reclaim his blankets, but then RK puts a warm hand to his shoulder to move him into the centre of the mattress and Gavin’s lungs clench on his next exhale as he watches the android, wearing nothing but a simple black t-shirt and grey boxer briefs, climb underneath the blankets beside him.

“Okay, now I’m _really_ going to fuckin’ shoot you,” Gavin snarls, but it lacks all the fire he wants, has no foundation of truth to it, and by RK’s small smirk he knows it. “It’s—Fuckin’ shit, I’m not that cold! I was _kidding_ , you asshole!”

RK doesn’t bother to reply, shimmying his body down until his leg brushes against Gavin’s through his jeans. The mattress, being full of air, has no rigidity and easily gives way to their combined weight, curling them together at the centre even as Gavin scrambles to keep distance between them. His face has to be the colour of a maraschino cherry, and it worsens when RK grabs his shoulder to stop him from escaping the blankets entirely.

“Honestly, Detective, how smart do you think it is to avoid this just because it makes you uncomfortable? This is basic survival.” RK’s tone is as dry as sawdust, and he forcefully pushes Gavin back down to lay on the mattress. He resists but loses, landing on his back with a huff and then, refusing to look up at that face, he shuts his eyes with a leaden, aggravated breath.

“This is Vegas rules, alright?” Gavin snaps without opening them, feeling his cool body warm up all over just at the touch of RK’s legs against him, the heat of his torso that’s so close to him. “This doesn’t leave the safety of this stupid frozen shithole.”  

“Noted, Detective.” RK waits patiently, and finally Gavin shifts a little and rolls to present his back to the android, who simply slots up against him like it’s the most natural, normal thing in the world.

His breath catches but thankfully RK is gracious enough to not mention it. Neither of them speak as RK shuffles slightly against him to pillow his left arm beneath his head, and Gavin fears that he’ll have to go the entire night saying nothing at all out of the terror that one wrong step will take him into new territory, the most embarrassing and heinously uncharted territory available to him.

His left arm is squished beneath him, and he can feel the presence of RK’s right hand as it hovers, searching for a modest resting place on Gavin’s body. It’s the first real show of hesitancy, of physical considerateness, that Gavin’s ever seen displayed by the android, and it stirs all kinds of unwelcome sensations in his body as he anticipates where RK will touch him. RK’s warmth, his lean body all along Gavin’s, the gentle brush of his breath against the hairs on his nape… it’s enough to make him want to shout himself hoarse, to scramble away from all this as fast as possible and pretend none of it ever happened. He knows, though, that this isn’t going away. RK is tasked with, among other things, keeping him safe, and Gavin knows better than anyone how seriously RK takes his job.

He also knows, with stones clogging his throat, that this is impersonal for the android. He knows RK is a deviant, that he’s capable of emotion and feeling. He knows, too, that RK is the least outwardly deviated android he’s ever met—and he’s met more than a few deviants over the last year—so hoping for emotions outside of what he’s already shown is useless. There is nothing between them but mild companionship and an efficient, effective work relationship.

It hasn’t stopped Gavin’s own feelings from climbing every day, no matter how much he tells himself it’s not welcome, or it’s not worth it. No, his emotions have escalated, his thoughts becoming untrustworthy and his body a traitor, and now… Now he’s stuck, metaphorically and physically, with the android that’s become both his bane and his boon—and he has nowhere to go.

Finally RK’s hand touches down beneath their blanket shield, beneath Gavin’s jacket, alighting gently on Gavin’s side at his lowermost rib. It’s warm, too warm for someone synthetic but Gavin’s become all too aware of CyberLife’s many advances and intricacies with its androids and their functionality, thanks to RK and Connor, so it’s not a surprise to him. It does, however, make him flinch slightly, and it’s not the warmth that’s the cause.

“Detective,” RK murmurs, and Gavin just barely manages not to flinch again when the hushed voice is right at his ear.

“What,” he says quietly, waspishly, and feels heat flood his face when RK chuckles.

“I’m curious about something.”

“Congratulations,” Gavin gripes, hunching his shoulders against the feeling of RK’s firm chest. RK, patient as ever, just waits for him and Gavin, reluctant as always, relents with a harsh sigh. “What is it?”

“Would you really brave the cold instead of withstanding my proximity?” the android asks after a significant pause.

Gavin searches the words for inflection but finds none, and he sighs again. “I’m still thinking about it,” he grumbles, but his lips curve and even he can hear the smile in his words.

RK’s hand clenches for the briefest moment on his waist before relaxing again—maybe a reward for his stab at humour, maybe just a random twitch, but it makes Gavin’s stomach jump all the same.

* * *

When Gavin cracks his eyes open, bleary and disoriented, it takes a long moment for him to realize he hasn’t fallen asleep on his couch watching The Price is Right at 1 in the morning again. He shifts with a long groan, stretching languidly, but when he feels a warm hand against his hip his body abruptly stiffens. He slowly blinks the sleep from his eyes and lifts his head minutely, seeing the dimly lit, small kitchen with dark windows around him and the lantern still casting that soft glow over the room, and with a sharp jolt his circumstances come roaring back.

He lifts a hand to rub his tired eyes and mutters sleepily, “Don’t s’pose any of that was just a bad dream, huh?”

RK’s quiet chuckle greets him, sourced behind his shoulder, close enough that he feels the android’s breath on his neck. “No such luck, Detective.”

Now that he’s awake Gavin notes the room’s chill with a distasteful frown and he snuggles a little more beneath the blankets, shielding his face from the cool air. The motion brings him a little closer to his bedmate, however, but RK doesn’t say a word about it and, after a slight hesitation, he lets the moment pass unremarked.

“Any word from the station on that tow?” he grumbles.

“Captain Fowler has issued a tow truck to come and gather us at its earliest convenience, which was estimated to be about ten a.m.”

“What time is it now?”

RK’s reply is instantaneous. “Seven thirteen a.m.”

Gavin groans and rolls forward to flatten himself onto the mattress. At his hip, RK’s hand slides from his body with the motion and he tamps down on the immediate urge to replace it. “Three hours. Three fuckin’ hours. What the fuck are we going to do for three hours?”

“You could go back to sleep,” RK suggests. He’s amused.

Gavin turns to peer at his partner from beneath the blankets. “Stop deriving pleasure from this, you sick bastard.”

Cool blue eyes stare back at him, crinkled at their corners. “I work with what I’m given, Detective.”

“Bastard,” Gavin reiterates, but it’s lame at best. He drops his face to the mattress, feeling its plastic covering stick to his cheek, and studies RK in the lantern’s light. He’s leaning on his elbow and his dark hair is slightly mussed from the night’s tribulations. Along with his state of undress it’s the most unkempt that Gavin’s ever seen him, and the fact that he’s probably the _only_ person to see this side of the android is intoxicating information. At first glance he thinks RK isn’t paying him any attention, looking off toward the kitchen wall with his LED yellow and whirling, but when Gavin catches the tiniest uptick of his lips he knows the android is paying just as much attention to him as he is to RK.

He rolls onto his back to avoid that look, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t think I can fall asleep again. It’s too cold.” He isn’t lying, either—the night had been balmy beneath the blankets with RK’s fabricated warmth at his back, but now that there’s space between them again the cold house has pervaded him with a chill once more, blankets be damned.

“There is a simple remedy for that, Detective,” RK is prompt to point out.

Gavin scoffs, his face flushing a little with a misplaced sense of satisfaction. _He isn’t mentioning it because he wants it, you idiot,_ Gavin is quick to remind himself, and scowls at the thought. “I’d rather freeze.”

“Do you need a repeat performance of last night so badly?” RK wonders. “I’ll be happy to keep you warm, but I am less inclined to force you into it.”

Gavin scowls further, heart seizing at the very idea of being touched so fluently by his partner again, but he doesn’t protest when RK’s hand finds his shoulder and nudges him onto his side. He’s facing the android this time, though, which makes his throat tighten and his toes curl, and he’s squirming backward on impulse.

RK foregoes asking him in favour of simply tugging Gavin forward until he’s pressed to RK’s warm, solid chest, his mouth at the android’s shoulder and his heart palpitating hard enough to hurt. That same hand smooths purposefully around his back to secure itself at his waist, holding him snugly against RK and remaining perfectly motionless thereafter.

The proximity, the position, and the power of RK’s presence are all too much, immediately and mercilessly, but the moment he starts to shift RK’s hand is there, keeping him immobile. He stays mutinously quiet, his face pushed indelicately into RK’s shoulder to prevent stupid thoughts from becoming stupider actions, and wills his body to remain indifferent.

 _Easier said than done,_ he thinks to himself fatalistically. RK doesn’t move an inch—one of the things Gavin still occasionally finds unnerving about him—the entire time that Gavin’s caught in his embrace, and somehow by that alone it’s a simpler undertaking to pretend he’s somewhere else, to remove his thoughts from the moment and just drift. Slowly, as RK’s radiant warmth starts to do its work Gavin’s desperation fades into genuine drowsiness, and he no longer has to convince himself to not react because with every passing second he’s losing the steadfast grip on himself and slipping that much closer into sleep.

It’s a gentle fall when his eyes close with finality, when his body’s tenseness is traded for a slumbering weightfulness, and his mind slowly blinks out with the peculiar sensation of fingers stroking his waist.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! comments are always appreciated uwu


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